August 30, 2007

Stalker Boy

So, it finally happened. I met someone in the grocery store. I always go shopping hoping to make a love connection. I mean, how romantic is it to be in a room full of food? It's like a giant party with a shining concrete dance floor. I like the elevator music they play in the produce section. As usual, the cup of my imagination runneth over. I really just go to the store to flirt. Real relationships scare the hell out of me.

Last week I was doing some pretty late shopping to grab the ingredients for the Chocolate Blackout Cake, second edition. I walked past an aisle, paused to check my shopping list, looked up, and saw a stock boy staring at me. I recognized him as one of the regular late shift stockers. As I passed to the next aisle, I heard a whistle. Flattered and mortified, I continued shopping and then backtracked a couple of aisles to pick up some chocolate bars. As a rounded the corner, I met eyes with the whistler. I'm sure my eyes widened and my face colored. I have such an expressive face. It's a curse, really. I ducked around him, grabbed my Ghiradelli bars, and slinked away.

So tonight, more late night shopping, again for a cake, actually two, a pound cake and a toffee cake. I finished my shopping and checked out. Unfortunately, the milk I bought had a puncture in the carton, so the checker ran to get a replacement. I stood waiting, looking around, and guess who was on my favorite aisle, the baking aisle, the one with flour, sugar, extracts, and chocolate bars? That's right. The stocker, or rather, the stalker. Just standing there at the end of the aisle and blantantly staring. I looked away quickly. Or probably my mouth fell open and then I looked away quickly. I was still waiting for that checker and the replacement milk. Make conversation with the sacker. I did. Monosyllabic answer from her. I saw the stalker again in my periphery, so I turned around completely.

You know the fluttery butterfly feeling after making eyes with someone? It makes you want to bat your eyes and smile coyly. This guy gives you a fluttery feeling like you want to run away and lock your car door and wear a disguise next time you shop. I'll have to start shopping at the newer Market Street in the rich neighborhood with a bunch of middle-aged housewives! No chance of meeting anyone there. What's with me and the late night shopping and baking?

On a happier note, I just returned from San Diego, where I had, gasp, a date. It mainly consisted of lunch at a Brazilian steakhouse and walking about a shopping mall and the pier of the North San Diego Bay. That is not my ideal place to debut, full daylight. I prefer the cover of darkness or at least the shelter of a shopping cart, apparently. I had a fun time but no particular reason to believe that this guy ever wants to see me again in this life.

That "Still Single Shower" is coming up. Ten out of eleven invitees are married. I'm starting to feel like the reason I'm still single is the elephant in the room that no one's talking about. Or maybe I'm the elephant in the room. Feel free to comment anonymously on my failings.